Celadon Special
by Capybara 773
Summary: It's Celadon City, 1948. A girl has gone missing. Prejudices against Pokemon are running high. And the first Pokemon detective is entering his debut case. Still accepting OC submissions.
1. Begin the Beguine

**Hey people, it's Capybara here. I'm taking time in between study to write now, and have decided to try my hand at detective stories, writing each case three chapters at a time. To try and keep things fresh, I'm letting people submit OCs to take the place of witnesses and suspects.**

**So without further ado, let me introduce Detective Shaw.**

**Chapter 1. Celadon Special**

_People don't realise the significance of Gym Badges. Sure, you've read the stories. Some kid from a small town conquering the Pokémon League, gym by gym, stopping crime and righting wrongs. But people forget the significance of these Pokémon Masters. They aren't punks who go around capturing Pokémon for some ego trip._

_To be a Pokémon Master is to be a protector of the people; spreading love, and caring._

_So when Luke Doberman, the last Pokémon Master died thirty-two years ago, justice took a skinny dip into darkness, leaving Kanto a Wild West town. People shooting each other over tables of cards, easy women selling themselves at a dime a kiss, drunken men beating their families... something had to be done. A new order was imposed. A sheriff for each town became a force._

_You've read the stories about detectives cleaning the town, but in Celadon, City of the Rainbow, behind all the glitz and glamour, you can still dig up dirt, find bodies beneath the floorboards, witness fortunes be traded at the whims of men with deep pockets and shady hats and work amongst colleagues with an arm over your shoulder and a switchblade pricking your gut._

_The year is 1948, and Celadon was about to wake with a bad hangover..._

"Welcome to your new office, Shaw."

I surveyed the room, adjusting my fedora and taking a moment to memorise my surroundings. It was more a closet than a room, with a tiny L-shaped desk packed around two walls of the room with a baby filing cabinet tucked under one corner of the desk, and a note pad and some pencils resting on the other. I took off my jacket and hung it off one of the rungs jutting out of the wall to serve as a hat stand. My fedora joined it soon after, and it was then that I noticed the small mirror beside it.

By now you may be wondering what I look like.

I stand at about five feet, weighing in at a lean 110 pounds. My hair is green, cut and combed to a tidy style. I'm clean-shaven, but I suppose that's the only way I'll ever be. And if you'd looked, you'd see that only three digits were used to place the hat on the rung. A battle scar from an unfortunate accident? No!

My arms are sleek and unblemished, and my eyes big, their pupils red like cherry tomatoes. The only clothes I wore now were a waistcoat and tie, but that didn't diminish my modesty.

For I am a Pokémon. A Gallade, to be specific, and the first to serve the Celadon City Police Department (or the CCPD for short).

I turned to the man at the door.

"Thank you, Assistant Commissioner Tibers." I said in plain English. "I'm honoured to serve this department as an Inspector."

Tibers, a tall, spidery man with a drawn face and small, steely eyes, smiled. "You'll make a fine bloodhound for this Department, young Shaw. We are welcome to have a talented detective join our ranks, Pokémon or no."

He handed me a brown envelope, and told me, "In here is your first assignment. There's a missing local girl, and we want to see what you've got. Track her down, and we'll have a wondrous headline for ye."

I nodded, and took the envelope. Tibers made his way back to his office, while I drew up the stool under the desk. Hardening the edge of my hand to a knife's edge, I sliced open the envelope and emptied its contents onto the table.

There was a badge, which I flipped open, to see my name and picture. Black and white didn't make me very photogenic, I mused, as my eyes turned over to the badge itself: a kaleidoscopic sunburst.

I slipped the badge into the pocket of my waistcoat, and moved onto the file. Picking it up, I took a breath. My first case.

I opened the file, and saw the name and photo of the missing girl. Her name was Rosalie, and she went missing at Celadon City Park at six in the morning. Within two minutes I was out the door, duster swaying to my pace and my hat on a head held high.

**And that's the chapter! If you're interested in joining the case, please submit an OC as either a suspect, a witness, or even Rosalie herself. There can only be one Rosalie. If you want any suspects or witnesses to go along with her in the case just submit a witness or suspect.**

**Note that just because you submit a witness or suspect doesn't mean they'll be used, as I'll be taking the characters that go together to make the best detective story. But Shaw is involved in many cases, so I'm sure you'll get the opportunity to take part in future cases.**

**Profile is as follows:**

**Witness or Suspect? Or both?**

**Name: (always important)**

**Age: (if it's a Pokémon, simply state whether they are senior, adult, teenager or child)**

**Sex: (also important)**

**Species: (if ain't isn't human, what kind of Pokémon is it)**

**Job: (even Pokémon have jobs, although these are generally menial)**

**Personality: (What kind of person/Pokémon are they? And are they likely to help Rowan or hinder him in his investigation?)**

**Alibi: What were they doing on the night of Rosalie's disappearance? If relevant, are they connected in any way to Rosalie?**

**For Rosalie, just go submit a full name, appearance, personality and backstory, and I'll do the rest.**

**I'll begin writing the first chapter of the Rosalie case in a few days, so submit quickly~!**

**Molto grazie~!**

**Capybara 773**


	2. Rosalie

**Hey everyone, and welcome to the first chapter of the Rosalie Case. This case is shaping up to be three chapters long, and hopefully it'll make a good introduction to most of the cast.**

**I'd like to thank New Musica, Munia and One-Wheel-Wonder for each of your characters, and also to reassure Shinobi Sneasel and NekuSuzume that yes, your characters will appear in subsequent chapters (although I'm making a few adjustments to Gauge so he fits into everything else that's going on).**

**Now, without further ado, here's the chapter~!**

**Who kidnapped Rosalie Grant?**

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

**Celadon Central Police Station, 10:23am**

I strode out the back door of the police station into a drab carpark enclosed by a metre-high brick wall. There was the telltale brush of wind at my flank, and warning clouds rolled in the heavens. I made my way across to my car, a beaten grey Sedan, crushing a few cigarette butts into the asphalt. Time to have another good look at the profile, I thought, opening the folder.

The girl's name was Rosalie Grant, aged fifteen. No photos existed, but a quick sketch described a pale young waif with an innocent, heart-shaped face and long, dark hair woven into two elegant plaits. The portrait seemed a little fearful, glancing at me nervously under a neatly trimmed fringe.

She was last seen at the Celadon Garden, which meant that was my next stop.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

**Celadon City Park, 11:01am**

Tree branches drifted with the wind, swaying their leafy fingers as they reached out to one another. Occasionally a copper leaf, laced with the verdigris it had in its life fell, gliding to the next tree, carrying a message from another in its death.

I shivered a little, and hoped that wherever Rosalie was, it was warm. I began looking around, passing bushels of flowers whose name I knew not, bobbing my head down occasionally to avoid tangling my hat in some of the plants which reached over me.

The garden was fertile and bountiful, seemingly blessed by Landorus himself. I got out my notebook and searched for an entry, eventually coming across a name: Sundream.

A Pokémon, by its name, not employed nor owned, as indicated by a lack of a surname. A street performer who danced at the rose gardens, she'd told the hotline. And she'd asked for Pokéblocks. Not exactly an encouraging sign for a reliable witness, but my sergeant reminded me that 'the first leads you to the rest of the trail'.

So here I was, a small pouch of Pokéblocks sitting in the pocket of my duster, hoping it was worth the detour. When it comes to kidnapping, the time you spend looking can sometimes equate to the amount of blood you end up finding.

I stepped into a clearing, the path wound into a Pokéball symbol with roses of red and white marking out the different halves, and a fountain with a magnificent brass statue in the centre, though its metal was chipped and rusted. A Moltres rising out of a pool of flame, a throwback to the glory days of the Pokémon League.

And at its foot, a family watching a Roselia dance at the fountains edge. Her feet tapped a delightful beat, I noted as I made my way over.

"Sundream?" No time to watch the performance, I'd decided. She slowed her movements and gave me a questioning look.

"My name is Detective Rowan Shaw," I flipped open my badge, "and I'd like to have a few words with you."

Now her attention was on me. So was the family's, for that matter. All humans, with a Tepig leaning against the little boy, none of them had even heard of a Pokémon being a detective, in all likelihood, and judging by how huffily the father drew himself up, a Pokémon with actual authority.

I'd be seeing more looks like those in coming weeks, I grumbled internally.

Sundream hopped off the fountain's rim. "Oh, you must be here about the missing girl, right?" I nodded. "Sorry, I'll be back over soon," she apologised to the family, giving them a curtsy.

"Don't bother." The father sniffed, "We're leaving." They walked on out, the mother tugging on the little boy to come with her. He'd obviously been enjoying the dance from before. The Tepig gave me a slightly curious look, before trailing off after the family.

(Some folks...) Sundream hissed in Pokémon, (They just can't handle that us Mons are on the rise, now can they?) She shook her head. (I really am sorry for their behaviour, sir.)

(Think nothing of it.) I shrugged. (I got enough of it at the Academy to get used to bad attitudes. I hope you don't mind us carrying out the interview in Pokémon?)

She nodded over to a nearby bench. (Sure.)

We sat down on the bench, and I got out a pencil to complement the notebook. Took down a few details about her, and the time. She noticed the name entry, and added, (Round the garden, all the Mons call me Sunny, hun. Did you bring the Pokéblocks?)

Sighing, I drew out the pouch. Her eyes lit up, and, mouth watering, she lunged at it. My arm whipped it well out of reach, and I pushed her back into her seat.

(Questions first. If I think the answers are any good, then you can have the Blocks.)

(But-)

(No buts. See this?) I drew a Pokéblock out with my psychic powers and popped it in my mouth. (Dee-licious.)

She drew her arms up in a huff. (Some Pokémon...) She muttered.

Good enough, I guessed. I began asking questions, savouring the aftertaste of Watmel in my mouth.

(So, our staff reports your call as taking place around 6:02am. You were the one who called in the kidnapping of Rosalie Grant, correct?)

(That her name?) Sunny said. (She called herself Rose, y'see.)

(And how did you know her?)

(She'd come and watch my performances, y'see. Come with good Pokéblock too,) she licked her lips hungrily. (I think her daddy ran a Pokéblock store. It started with G... g... gr...) She slumped her head back as she tried to remember.

(Grant's Sweet'N Treat?) I'd just been there, talking to some Pokémon shop attendants, talking with them over the counter about how their manager was gone.

(That's the one!) She clapped, (Knew I shoulda learned to read.)

I raised an eyebrow. (You knew enough to tell me to put down 'Sunny' in the notebook instead of 'Sundream'.)

She bit her lip. (I know enough to put down my details on those coupons for prizes you see about in the papers sometimes. Not that it ever does me any good...)

I shrugged away my suspicions there. A lot of Pokémon had very little skills by way of reading and writing, and copying out their name and species was often the best they could do. Sunny here was probably ahead of the curve in that she could recognise and write out addresses too.

(So Rosalie sometimes attended your performances. The girl with the Pokéblock.)

(That's right. I saw her this morning. The sun was just rising, and I was setting up over here to do my dancing for the morning. I saw her just coming out from the path over there, so I waved to her. She waved back, and I turned back to my things. A second later, I turned back, and she was gone.)

(And that's it? No sign of her or her attacker?)

She slumped her head, trying to remember. (No... sorry, sir. I heard a scream from off in the bushes, and that was it. Run off after her, and found that.) She motioned over to a yellow cardigan. (And that's when I found a telephone and made the call.)

(I see...) I muttered, scrawling all of that into the notebook. (Well then, all I need are a few more details, and then I'll be on my way.)

She perked up suddenly. (And then the Pokéblock?)

(And then the Pokéblock.)

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

**Celadon City Park, 11:56am**

I looked over my notes as I wandered my way up the path. Not much to go on, apart from the cardigan that Sunny found. I'd given it cursory scan, noting the name on the washing tag identifying it as belonging to a 'Rose Grant', as well as a few stray dark hairs lying on it, presumably belonging to the missing girl.

That, and the name of the shop.

I'd already been over to where Sunny had found the cardigan, but there wasn't much to be found. Only one set of shoeprints could be found, leading through the bushes to where the clothing item was found. A jutting branch had caught a few strands of cotton which I could match to a tear in the cardigan, and some matted leaves which seemed to indicate a spot where she fell, possibly hitting her head against a root, which seemed to have a considerable dent in it.

There was no blood, which I'd hoped was a good sign. But no sign of what was chasing her, apart from a few odd scratches against the occasional tree trunk that looked like they'd been made with metal.

Magnemite, maybe? It would explain the imprints, and their magnetic fields , when combined, would be capable of lifting an adolescent girl, provided that she'd been knocked out by the fall.

But Magnemites are common enough as they are, and can be shipped at $300 for half a dozen to any willing buyer.

So I won't be finding the kidnapper that way.

The cardigan was now bagged and tagged, tucked away in my duster, and I was on my way back to the car. I'd be running names by R&I soon enough, trying to find this sweet shop that Sunny mentioned. Maybe there'd be a link there.

(Was Sunny helpful?)

I stopped, turning to find a Gardevoir, floating along behind me. A teenager, from her appearance, but her voice was beginning to take on the subtle softness of an adult. Another Pokémon that can float bodies, I thought.

(How long have you been following me?) I said, one of my arms glowing with a sharp green light.

(Sorry to startle you.) She bowed her head apologetically. (I merely heard you talking with Sunny. You'd been gone for a bit with her, and I'd thought you'd left already. But you came back.)

(I did.) I stated bluntly, the green light in my forearm cooling down a little. (But that still doesn't explain why you were following me.)

Her eyes widened a little. (Oh, it's just... you see...) I waited for the answer. (You remind me of my boyfriend.) She blushed.

(Is he a cop too.)

(No, nothing like that. It's just, you look so much like him, and I was thinking of him while you were walking by. And... I just wanted to say hi.)

I gave a groan. There was little time for this. Noticing the badge on the frock she was wearing, I asked, (I notice you're wearing the badge for a garden employee.)

(That's right, I'm a gardener.)

(At six in the morning, today, a girl went missing? Would you happen to know anything about that?)

She shook her head. (I didn't see Rose at all, sorry. I just heard a scream from far off, and then there was Sunny, quick as a Chu, running off to a callbox to call the cops.)

(Okay. I don't believe I caught your name. I'm Inspector Rowan Shaw, by the way.)

(Shay. It's just Shay, I'm afraid.) She smiled. (You know, I've heard rumours about her father. Rosalie's, I mean.)

(Such as?)

(Such as he plays cards in the back rooms of parlours.) Shay told me in hushed tones. (A friend of mine said that her friend's master saw him lose lots of money from some very shady characters.)

I scratched that down. Now we were getting somewhere.

(Would you happen to know where Rosalie's father lost all this money?)

(No, sorry. It could be any number of bars. Some bartenders will do anything to earn a quick buck.)

I closed my notebook. (Thank you, Shay. I hope you have a good day.) I gave her a nod of my hat, before heading off.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

**Outside Celadon City Park, 12:18pm**

I got to the callbox and picked up the headset.

"Operator, please link me to Celadon R&I." Making my request in plain English. "It's Inspector Rowan Shaw, badge serial RAI66."

"Certainly, one moment." The woman said on the other end of the line. I heard a few clicking noises as she adjusted some cables. Then, a familiar voice.

"Hey there, what can I do ya for?"

Cinnabar Island drawl and colloquialisms. I was speaking to Barton. Not the best support I could've asked for, but it's not like I was after any wizardry from him.

"Hey Barton, I need an address on a candy store. Grant's Sweet'N Treat."

"Aww, ya know we're told not to get candy on duty!" He joked. "Someone's lookin' for a telling off..."

"It's for a case." I growled.

"Relax, buddy," He replied, a smug grin hiding somewhere in his tone. "Ol' Barty's only teasin' ya!"

"An address. PLEASE."

Like I said, it's good I'm not asking anything special from him. If I were, he'd be bragging in his cocksure way till the Miltanks were fed and watered.

"Hold your Ponyta..." He rifled through some papers quickly. "I gotta say Shaw, you were quick to the draw. And I mean really quick."

"What do you mean?" I was beginning to dread the answer already.

"You know Rosalie Grant, the girl who you're after? Her father's vanished too. The mother reported. Do you want her address as well?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

**And that's the chapter~! Think you know who kidnapped Rosalie Grant? Well, whether you're right or not, Shaw's investigation continues. Shay mentioned that the father was gambling with some shady characters. Think your OC could be one of them?**

**Submit a profile, and Rowan Shaw will have his first real bad guy to take on.**

**Hope you all enjoyed the chapter~!**

**Molto grazie~!**

**~Capybara 773**


End file.
